He's Always Cold
by KeeLimeArt
Summary: In 24-hours, Jim Stark has moved into his new home in Los Angelos- and witnessed the deaths of two of his peers. One including the shooting of John "Plato" Crawford, the first person to show him any kindness in town... And the first person he ever thought he could help. Now, Jim is trying to cope with the hard emotions dragged out of him on the night before...


_**Part 1**_

 _ **3:00 AM**_

I knew I was making a scene, but goddammit, why wasn't anybody else? Why is everybody so cool with this? Why am I the only guy here who cares? The cops just shot down a kid with a gun, but I have the bullets! It wasn't even loaded!

Taking a deep breath, I shake my head a little. Easy, kid. Just take it easy.

I have Judy under my arm, but maybe her's should be over mine. My brain has been scrambled, and if I get too dizzy, I swear I can fall and take her with me. Still, I can't help but to fuel the fire. I have to look back. Everything is happening way too fast, and it's all way too surreal for me. But no, no tricks. No illusions. There's Plato's body, forcing me to see the truth. You can't turn that off like the lights in the planetarium. It's all too real, and if I look close enough, I can still see the mismatched socks he put on getting dressed this- Gosh, I only just met him last night, haven't I?

This morning. This afternoon. Ten minutes ago.

Ten minutes ago he was still alive. I'm telling you, I was talking to him. I gave him my jacket 'cause he was cold and shaking. Maybe he was shaking 'cause he shot two kids, but I _still_ gave him that warm coat. He cradled it in his arms like a baby before putting it on. Before he let me see his gun. Before I unloaded it.

I violently shudder, making Judy look up at me, and I have to tear my eyes away from the ambulance. She lightly puts a hand on my shoulder, and her soft eyes tell me everything; she's sad. Sad, but not upset. Not like me.

"You okay, Jamie?" she whispers, shifting her eyes to glance where I was staring. Jamie. Still don't know where that nickname came from.

"Yeah," I tell her with a phony smile. "Yeah, I think we're going to be okay."

Judy gets real quiet, and I can tell she's thinking of something. Then, she takes a deep breath. "Are you sure?" She tries again.

"Sure," I quickly answered again.

"But-"

"Judy!" I loudly announce. "I say it's fine, and it is! I'm fine! You're fine! We're all FINE. Let's just keep walkin`!"

Something about the way she's looking at me says she's not really buying it. Even if she does, she stops in her tracks, making me stop with her. I look up, but nobody is paying attention to us. The cops are scribbling away notes and talking with their radios or megaphones or whatever. My parents are squabbling. Again. Plato and his family's maid are-

Judy kisses me, trying to reenact the slow, passionate lock we had in the old mansion. I felt like I was on top of the world then. I should melt into her and push the rest of this universe away, but I'm numb now. There's nothing I can feel but stunned shock, and the stunned part is starting to do away. My wandering mind gets so lost that I don't even react to her. I let my heavy hands clop down on her shoulders, and I have to push her away.

"Now's not the time," I insisted, trying to suppress my anger. How could anybody think about kissing at a time like this?

She smacks my arm, and I jump a little in surprise. "Jim, I'm frightened!" she tells me, almost pleading. This time I can see the tears in her eyes, just before she envelopes me in a strangling hug. I loosely wrap my arms around her and rub her back. Her whole figure is shaking from her sobs, but I can tell that she's only hysterical. This isn't what mourning looks like.

"I never wanted any of this! It's cold; I'm scared; and none of this should have ever happened! Jim, let's get out of here. I wanna go home. Can't we go home?"

"Yeah." I'm out of it. I'm in a fish tank, surrounded by glass, and everybody else is the fish. I'm untouchable. "Let's go home, Judy. Stop crying, I'm. I'm gonna hold you the whole way there. I promise."

She doesn't want to talk about it. Good, neither do I.

 _ **3:45 AM**_

I took her home, safe and sound, in the family car. She slept peacefully in the passenger seat, looking blissful. It's like nothing's happened at all. Wish I could say the same about the rest of us… I don't even remember what the drive home was like. Probably cold. Definitely lonely.

 _ **4:49 AM**_

God, it's almost five in the morning, and I'm finally crawling into bed. No way in hell am I going to school today, so I guess it doesn't matter anyways.

Looking down, I see I'm still in my street clothes, and I have to give a breezy chuckle. Mom would yell at me if she saw this. Funny. Still, the pillow is waiting for me, and I dive right in without changing. My eyes shut tight, and that's when the dam finally burst.

Let it be a dream. I want it to be a dream. I wanna wake up to my first real day here. No knife fights or slashed tires. No playing chickie on the cliff. I just wanna have a clean start. Is that too much to ask for?

I flip over to my back and stare at the ceiling. What happened tonight? My mind is buzzing like a hornet's nest, and every question I ask just makes things more crammed and harder to work out. Eyelids feel like bricks, but my mind is screaming at me to stay awake and think about what I've done. It's not even been five minutes, and I've already been tossed and turned more than a caesar salad. God, just let me get some sleep…

A heavy thump lands somewhere downstairs. I'm not talking about footsteps, either. This is like somebody flipping over the dinner table or falling down the stairs. I push the pillow close to my face and block off the ears. Let Mom and Dad take care of it. I've done enough for them today, anyways. They're already so jumpy when it comes to noises at night.

But nobody comes out to see what happened. Everything is closed off in thick silence again, and I'm starting to think that I imagined it. You see and hear a lot of weird things in between sleep and awake. I've already gone sleepwalking this week, so I'm not falling for it. Nothing is tearing me out of this bed until I'm good and ready to wake up.

" _Jim?"_ Somebody whispers right into my ear. I can almost feel their breath, but it's cold- and sticky in a way. Oh no, I haven't really slept any, have I? Mom's not gonna break in and wake me up for school just yet, right?

I crack my eyes open and tilt my head up to tell her off, but I was met with the empty air. Now I'm a little bit spooked. My heart is starting to beat a little faster now, but I'm still trying to convince myself that they're just mind games. I'm just about to enter a nightmare if I fall asleep. My eyes try to shut again, but that's when I hear it.

That loud thump came back, but it's closer this time, and longer. bam, Bam, BAM! I bolt straight up in my bed, and now, I'm totally drenched in sweat. My head is still hazy, but I _know,_ I just _know_ what's going on. Mom quietly snuck out of her room to check on the noise. It's way too dark to see. She's tumbled down the steps!

" _Jim!"_ The same voice urges me. It's shrieking. Mom needs me!

I barrel over my bed, smacking into the floor as the sheets tangle with my ankles. Sense has totally left me, and now, I'm running, hunched over on all fours, down the hallway. A trail of blankets are still attached to me, smacking into any end table or railing along the journey. When I reach the top of the stairs, I'm moving too fast. My bare hands slip and slide against the hardwood floor, like it's been waxed recently. I scramble to stand on my feet, but the socks only make things worse. As I try to take my first step, my feet give way, and I'm sent sailing down the steps.

I don't even have time to scream. The blankets wrap around me as I start to roll downstairs, and I can't even think of a "Help!" to shout out. I grunt with every edge that smacks into my ribcage. It ended in two seconds, but it felt like dozens of planks were assaulting me. Even when I was battered and bruised at the bottom floor, I still sprang up to my feet, grabbing onto a corner of the wall for support.

I groaned out, "Mom…?" trying to look for her again.

 _Crack!_

A plate. The kitchen! She's heading for the band-aids in the kitchen, 'cause she got hurt!

Tearing the sheets off of me, I start running towards the kitchen, but now I'm hearing footsteps, the real kind this time. They're not my own, either. Dad. Well, he's just going to have to wait. I've gotta see what's going on in this. Dark. Kitchen.

Nothing. The lights are out. There's nobody here. Everything is exactly the same as it was when I ran away last night. My place at the table was still made, too. The medicine cabinet was closed, and I was the only person in here. Or, I thought I was for half a second, but then I saw the shadows moving, outside the sink window. There's a face out there, and they're wearing a red jacket. Hey! That's MY jacket. They've taken my jacket!

I leap for the door and rip it open, coming close to ripping it right out of the frame. A tiny crack of light reaches over the horizon, for dawn is here. The person in my yard faces the light, standing as still as a statue and making no noise. The soft winds coming in didn't even ruffle his hair.

"HEY!" I scream out. They won't come in here and steal my stuff!

The person tilts their head to me, looking out with one eye. My hand tightens on the doorknob. This guy is a real coward, not even daring to look me in the eyes. I check him over, about to charge him, but then I realize, he's not wearing my jacket. I gave my jacket to Plato at the planetarium.

My eyes trail down, and all at once, I feel my heart sinking to my stomach. This guy is wearing mismatched socks. I freeze, and everything inside me seems to stop. At the same time, my unwanted guest turns around, and steps right in front of me. I'd recognise him anywhere. That baby face and doe eyes were unmistakable.

The kid clutched his stomach, and I could see dark blood seeping through his fingers.

" _Jim…"_ Plato gasped.

The lights flick on, and I whip around, feeling like a cornered animal. Mom and Dad are standing there in their bathrobes, a little dazed and confused, but still wide-eyed and alert. Mom is clutching her handkerchief to her chest, and Dad has his finger on the switch, mouth agape. Both of them are staring at me with horror.

"What's goin' on, Jim?" Dad asks, his words sort of muffled. "Did somebody sneak in?"

I stare. My mouth is hanging low on its hinges, and I'm breathing heavily. I can't speak. I can hardly breathe. My eyes flash outside, but Plato is gone. Or, actually, he was never there in the first place. No footprints.

"Jim?" Dad asks again, voice even softer.

Mom steps in with a shrill tone. "For heaven's sake, Jim, answer us!"

I want to, but I thought you were hurt? I heard something. Was it one of you? Was it me? Plato. Plato was outside, and he needs my help!

My knees buckle, and I'm out cold before I can even hit the floor...


End file.
